Dragonborn Lost
by oo0Nerevarine0oo
Summary: We all know the story of the Last Dragonborn. But what would have happened if the dragon attacked Helgen just ONE MINUTE later? If the Dragonborn had died...how would Skyrim have coped? Follow Elisif the Fair, Ulfric Stormcloak, and General Tullius as they adventure throughout Skyrim to find a way to kill Alduin the World Eater-without a Dragonborn!
1. Ignorance of the Nords- Ulfric

Dragonborn Lost

A Skyrim Fanfiction

THE PROPHECY OF THE DRAGONBORN

When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world

When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped

When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles

When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls

When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.

The Dragonborn was fallen. Skyrim is doomed.

Chapter One-Ulfric

The Ignorance of the Nords

Ulfric could only remember the events of Helgen in a haze. He didn't want to understand what had transpired. But he had to. Skryim's fate depended on it.

He remembered the Imperial ambush. (Only Talos knew how the Empire found them in the first place.) He knew he was captured and then stuffed in a rickety wagon with three others…How Ulfric hated wagon rides. The infernal rocking of the carriage was enough to make one mad.

They rode for hours and hours in that beat-up cart, feeling every bump and crack in the road as the wagon rocked unsteadily from side to side. Just when Ulfric thought the ride would never come to an end, (due to that horse thief and Ralof's constant bickering), they arrived in Helgen.

The quiet young woman that sat on the other side of the wagon was a mystery to him. She had seemed like she didn't belong there, like she didn't deserve the fate she had suffered at the hands of the executioner. Nevertheless, she had been brutally killed by the Imperials who didn't even have her name on the execution list.

It was all a blur after she had been murdered. He remembers stepping up to the block, and the executioner raising his axe. Then Ulfric knew the dragon came and breathed fire upon the town. There was no doubt that if the dragon hadn't come, Ulfric would be dead. That wretched thing that had saved him had killed so many other innocents. Ulfric was the only survivor as far as he knew.

The Stormcloak Leader subsequently stole an Imperial horse and rode off as fast as the horse could go. He rode halfway across Skyrim with no stops or breaks and nearly killed the horse in the process. He arrived at Windhelm, left the horse to the care of the stable-man outside the gates, and then ran into the Palace of the Kings to hear cries of celebration of seeing him alive. But he tuned them out. He rushed up to his quarters and grabbed a piece of parchment and started writing to his rival, Jarl Balgruuf, with a fury. Ulfric still almost hated the man, but he wouldn't let the same thing happen to Whiterun as what happened to Helgen.

The Jarl of Windhelm looked at the parchment where he had scribbled an explanation of the events of Helgen and sighed. This couldn't be happening. It was impossible…

* * *

Jarl Balgruuf received the letter from Ulfric a day later, and at first thought it a joke. He laughed at the hastily and poorly written thing and brought in others to laugh at Ulfric's pathetic jest.

It was two days later that Balgruuf finally realized the letter to be true. By then though, it was too late. The same dragon that demolished Helgen had attacked Whiterun and burned down the entire city in less than an hour. It seemed that Skyrim was truly doomed.

**Hey, guys! I really hoped you enjoyed my fanfic! I worked hard on it, and I would appreciate reviews! I've posted the first three chapters and will post each new chapter on every following Sunday. ****;) Be sure to favorite/follow if you liked it!**


	2. A Desperate Plan- Tullius

Chapter Two- Tullius

A Desperate Plan

Only Solitude, Winterhold, Dragon Bridge, Dawnstar, and Ivarstead still stand one month later. During the first few days, everyone thought the return of the dragons was a rumor. How wrong they were! Thousands of innocents were brutally killed by the dragons, and barely a quarter of the population of Skyrim remained. It was only after Riften, Whiterun, Shor's Stone, and Riverwood fell that the Imperials and Stormcloaks put aside their differences and decided to work together to vanquish the dragons. Together they formed "The Resistance," a group a soldiers, mercenaries, and pretty much anyone who could fight. It had been two weeks since Tullius had signed that blasted truce, and by now he almost wished he hadn't. Tullius had already hated Ulfric for making war on the Empire, but now he loathed him. The two men seemed different in almost every possible way.

General Tullius now sat next to the table in which a map of Skyrim was placed. The red and blue flags that had once represented Stormcloak and Imperial holds had vanished. Now white and black flags took their place. Each black flag stood for a settlement razed by the dragons; each white flag stood for a settlement that the people of Skyrim still held. How few white flags were left…

The room was enveloped in silence. Tullius sat next to Elisif on one side of the table, while Ulfric sat by the other. Each of the three had bags under their eyes and hadn't gotten a full-night's rest in at least a fortnight. "It's hopeless," Jarl Ulfric finally said, "We need another plan other than just fighting blindly, or we're doomed men."

General Tullius ground his teeth in hate. Did Ulfric always have to act like this? "Well when **you** think of one you let us know." Ulfric stopped staring forlornly at the map and raised one of his eyebrows in that smart-alack way that was always about him. "Actually, I do have a plan."

The walls of the war room in Castle Dour were silent after that remark, each person wondering what the other should said next. "Would you mind telling us?" Elisif spoke up after about a minute. She looked torn and forgotten. Her hair hung tangled and loose around her shoulders like she had simply forgotten about it, and her clothes were the same ones that she put on a few days ago.

"We go to the Greybeards," Ulfric said. Tullius smiled. **This** was his plan? To go to some old men that lived on top of a mountain, ask them for help, and somehow they would have the answer to their dragon-dilemma? Brilliant. Just brilliant. Tullius started, "**That's** your plan? The Greybeards are pacifists! How will we get **them** to help?!"

Ulfric set his jaw, "I've lived with them, and they're not pacifists. They only teach that violence is not always the answer. They are also all very wise. Some might know of how the Nords defeated the dragons years ago and may be willing to help."

Tullius opened his mouth, and then closed it. He seemed at a loss for words. As much as he hated Ulfric, he did have a point. Tullius whispered under his breath, "I guess there's no other alternative." Ulfric nodded to Tullius and got up to leave.

At that moment Elisif suddenly looked very frantic. "Wait!" she exclaimed. Ulfric was halfway to the door. He paused and turned around. "I…" Elisif bit her lip. "I wish to accompany you." She barely managed to form the words, Tullius thought. How could she manage a journey all the way across Skyrim and up its the tallest mountain? But Elisif was obviously determined. "Please. I'm of no use here. I can't plan defenses or attacks like you and General Tullius can. I'm just dead weight right now. I feel as though I could help if we just get out of this blasted war room."

Elisif had a point. Tullius and Ulfric had brought Elisif into the war room out of sheer respect. The Jarl of Solitude should always preside over these type of things, but Elisif was young and seemed to know almost nothing of ruling a court, nonetheless conducting an army. "It's true; she may be of some use to you…" Tullius flinched at his words. He didn't mean to put it like that. 'She may be of some use to you?' That could come off as offensive, or maybe even sexist. But Jarl Elisif the Fair and Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak just stared at each other. They were all thinking the same thing: this man had killed Elisif's husband; forced her to be a widow. Is this really a good idea?

Then it was Ulfric's turn to speak: "I guess I can't stop you from coming."


	3. A Sliver of Hope- Elisif

Chapter Three- Elisif

A Sliver of Hope

Her life had seemed like a wild goose chase ever since she first met Torygg. She was astounded by the fact that she had married the High King… but then Ulfric had killed him. When Torygg died and she was thrust into the duties of being a Jarl, her life had almost been a living hell. She knew nothing of the duties of being a Jarl. She was just groping blindly for answers every single day in court. Then the dragons came, and her seemingly damned life had gotten even worse.

The pair had ridden in silence for the entire journey so far. Elisif opened her mouth in an attempt to make small talk, "Why did you kill him…?"

Elisif's eyes widened. She tried biting back the words. Why did she have to say that? There was no way in Oblivion that she would say it under normal circumstances…It must have been the lack of sleep.

Ulfric turned his head to look at Elisif. "I think you know the answer to that." Elisif sighed. She had already brought it up; there was no use in abandoning the subject. "But why him…? B-But why…**me**?" Tears started to form around her eyes. "**No**," Elisif told herself, "Not in front of **him**."

It was then that Ulfric stopped his horse. "I suppose this subject had to come up eventually. The truth is, Elisif…my cause was dying. I needed people to rally to the fact that the Empire has done nothing to stop the Thalmor. It just sits pretty while the Thalmor kill others for what they believe… I understand that the Empire had to sign the White-Gold Concordant. But in the fifty years since they did, the Empire has done nothing to stop the ever-rising power of the Thalmor."

"But you still didn't answer my question," Elisif spoke, "Why my husband?" Ulfric looked exhausted by the question, like he had already answered it too many times. "Killing your husband was the biggest statement I could have made. I'm sorry that you were caught in the crossfire, Elisif…I really am."

* * *

Elisif and Ulfric were positioned in front of High Hrothgar, each waiting for the other to make a move. Elisif didn't know what to do. She'd never been here, and she didn't know what the Greybeards were like. "When are we going to go in?" Elisif questioned. "It's freezing out here."

Ulfric suddenly burst through the doors. Elisif was startled by his sudden ferocity and hurried after him. "Ulfric!" Elisif tried to whisper, even though it came out almost as loud as a shout. "Ulfric, what are you doing?" The Jarl of Windhelm put a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence that gave Elisif a flare of annoyance. She was the Jarl of Solitude! She couldn't just be shunned like that. Elisif opened her mouth to say something about Ulfric's rude demeanor, but immediately closed it. She had been so wrapped up in Ulfric's recent actions that she failed to notice her surroundings: the interior of High Hrothgar. It **was **truly beautiful; the intricate and detailed scope of the architecture alone was enough to give an Imperial architect a heart attack.

"It's…beautiful…" Elisif breathed. Never had she seen a building so overwhelming. Just as she had finished admiring the elegant place, a man in a grey robe with a beard walked in noiselessly. Whoever the man was, he seemed to tense up as soon as he saw Ulfric.

Ulfric noticed this and seemed to shrink at the sight of the elderly man. "Arngeir, I…"

"You dare come here after what you've done?" It was obvious that Arngeir was angry, but his voice was relaxed, even soothing.

"I know what I did was wrong," Ulfric continued, "I shouldn't have done it."

"Then why did you? When you killed the High King using **our teachings,** you defied us and openly violated everything that we have taught you. We told you that violence is not always the answer, and we could all have seen a better solution to your dilemma other than murder."

Ulfric was staring at the ground this entire time and only now looked up, "That is where we disagree." The pair was speechless for a moment until Arngeir broke the silence.

"I suppose there is no use in bickering about it. What do you need?"

"Elisif and I need to see Paarthurnax immediately. It's…It's about the dragons." Arngeir turned to Elisif as if noticing her for the first time. He looked her up and down quickly, and then turned to Ulfric. Arngeir had already dismissed her. Elisif could feel her face turn red. Why did everyone think of her as a child?

"I knew someone would come eventually," Arngeir said, "Follow me." He walked to the doors on the other side of the building and opened them. Ulfric was close behind while Elisif trailed after. When Elisif closed the doors behind her, she saw that the two ahead of her were already about 50 yards away. "How did they move so fast?" Elisif wondered aloud.

Elisif jogged to keep up. When she finally reached them, they had stopped where a large snow-storm had picked up. "I guess we will have to wait…" Elisif said. But neither man was listening. About five seconds after Elisif had arrived, the two men let burst a thu'um. Elisif yelped and put her hands to her ringing ears. Ulfric turned around and voiced an apology, but Elisif didn't seem to be able to hear it.

After Elisif had recovered her ability to hear, she unclasped her hands from her ears and muttered, "Let's just get this over with."

Arngeir and Ulfric both chuckled as the trio began to climb the obscure trail that Ulfric and Arngeir had cleared with their thu'um up to the Throat of the World. Ulfric had brandished a small sword that seemed to be made of glass. Elisif had heard of ice wraiths roaming the top of this mountain, and pulled out a small dagger- just to be safe.

After the group had walked up the trail for roughly twenty minutes, Elisif started to hear something. She paused in the middle of the path and listened. "Yes, there's definitely a noise," Elisif thought. "But what is it?" Then her eyes opened wide with realization. It was a **hissing** noise…and it was** right behind her**! Elisif spun around and thrust her dagger at the huge ice-wraith that had been following her for the past minute and screamed. Ulfric and Arngeir saw what was happening and raced down the mountain to help her. Elisif was extremely frightened and would have run away if she didn't feel like her legs were frozen with fear. She'd managed to strike the awful monster a few times and could only hope it didn't get lucky enough to land its teeth on her.

Then Elisif noticed something… she was right on the side of the cliff. That gods- awful abomination was planning on pushing her off of the mountain! Once Elisif realized this she swung her knife with a fury. "Get away!" she screamed. But it was hopeless. With each thrust, Elisif lost more and more ground and eventually the air next to the cliff was her last step. She slipped and barely managed to grab hold of the edge of the cliff. Elisif closed her eyes and held her breath as she waited for the ice-wraith to finish her off… but it didn't. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw Ulfric with his hand outstretched, beckoning her to grab it.

Elisif slid one hand into Ulfric's palm, and he pulled her up with ease. Both sat panting on the cold rocks. "That was a close one," Ulfric voiced. "You think?" Elisif retorted at the obvious observation made by the man she had vaguely started to forgive.

Ulfric and Elisif eventually got up and followed the quiet Arngeir up the path. They didn't encounter any more problems. But just to be safe, Ulfric and Arngeir put Elisif in the middle of them. Elisif had told them how she didn't need a **man** protecting her when Ulfric suggested the plan, but she consented to the decision all the same.

When they finally reached the Throat of the World, Elisif at first thought the dragon to be a statue. She was sent into a panic when she first saw the eyes blink. "Dragon!" She had yelled. "Run!" Elisif had started to sprint away when Arngeir shouted back, "It's alright! This is Paarthurnax!" Elisif stopped in her tracks. She finally understood that she knew nothing of this Paarthurnax. She must have been so stunned by what was happening: she forgot to ask who he was in the first place.

Elisif yet again turned and shuffled back to the word wall that sat at the top of the mountain, which was where the dragon was perched. That gigantic head nodded in her direction. "Well, at least **he** didn't totally ignore me," she considered.

"Ulfric Stormcloak," the great dragon rumbled, "I anticipate that you have returned to seek help."

Ulfric nodded as the dragon had and said, "That is correct."

"You are aware that I may not be able to fully help you."

"Yes, I know," Ulfric acknowledged.

"Then let us speak of the return of my brother...**Alduin**."


	4. A Son's Vengeance- Ulfric

Chapter Four- Ulfric

A Son's Vengeance

Ulfric was stunned. Did he just say that **Alduin** had returned? Suddenly the situation had gotten even more ridiculous…If that was possible.

"Alduin? But he was vanquished centuries ago. That's impossible."

"Is it?" Paarthurnax contemplated, "Alduin was never vanquished…only **delayed**." A few moments of silence followed. What did Alduin mean: **delayed**? Elisif then decided to speak up, "Delayed? How was he…delayed?"

Paarthurnax looked confused by the question, "Only the gods know. He has returned...I can feel it."

Ulfric was starting to get annoyed. Paarthurnax would never stop talking in riddles like this.

"But…How can we defeat him?" he said, Ulfric always did get straight to the chase.

"Defeat him?" Paarthurnax said, "I don't think it's likely to defeat Alduin without a Dovakiin. Almost unattainable." Another question? Ulfric's temper flared, he was reminded of all those years ago, studying with the Greybeards. When he had been finally brought to see the mighty Paarthurnax, he had been utterly disappointed. Paarthurnax never answered the questions you brought to him. He only gave you more to answer.

"**Enough** with the riddles! We need a resolution! What we **don't** need is more problems!" Elisif and Arngeir both winced at Ulfric's temper flare. They were both fully aware of Ulfric's short temper. Ulfric sighed for the millionth time and breathed an insincere apology toward the dragon. At least he wasn't indulging in that infernal habit of using the dragon-speech every five words. That would be even more exhausting.

Paarthurnax lips curled into what Ulfric assumed were a smile. "Always the angry one, weren't you Ulfric." Ulfric nodded. How true that was.

Paarthurnax then continued in accordance to Ulfric's temperament. "The Nords, all those years ago, used something along the lines of a **shout** to weaken Alduin. They obviously did not kill him, but I believe they did something to send him into the future. Thus he is here now, unscathed." The Jarl of Windhelm considered the possibility. It seemed as probable as everything else that had happened so far.

Paarthurnax then spoke of how Ulfric would be able to see through the time rift with an Elder Scroll. "If you see of how the time rift was formed, then you may be able to see how the Nord heroes sent Alduin into the future and duplicate what they did."

Ulfric could finally feel a sliver of hope for his cause, "Where do we find this Elder Scroll?"

Paarthurnax sighed. "I do not know...you must figure that out on your own."

* * *

After making the trek back down to High Hrothgar, Arngeir had said that their best bet for finding the location of the scroll was at the Mages' College. Elisif and Ulfric knew that the mages may know where the scroll was, and continued to make a plan so that they could save the most time. They agreed that it would save the most time if Elisif were to ask the mages, and Ulfric was to gather a force to retrieve the scroll and rendezvous in Dawnstar.

Arngeir had invited them to stay in High Hrothgar for the night, seeing as how it was getting dark outside. The Greybeards let them sleep in their beds and walked off to sleep on mats a short distance away.

Elisif and Ulfric had the chosen beds that were farthest from each other, mainly because they both acknowledged that when two unmarried people of high-ranking social class, while also the opposite gender slept in the same room: it was indecent. "At least she isn't acting like a complete princess," Ulfric thought, "She's becoming more loose with her manners every day."

Ulfric chuckled to himself when he remembered seeing Elisif wildly swinging her puny dagger at the enormous ice-wraith. Two months ago, Elisif wouldn't have even gone up the steps with them. "I guess people change with time," Ulfric reasoned.

Ulfric was reading a book that was titled Dwemer Inquiries, even though he had no interest in the subject. Elisif was re-braiding her tangled hair. Ulfric peeked his eyes over the top of the book and secretly looked her over. She was in the middle of a sad attempt to make her hair look pretty, but it didn't seem to be working. Her hair was so tangled it wouldn't braid correctly. Her clothes were torn and stained with dirt and mud, while the exposed parts of her body were covered in scratches and bruises. "But even with all of those ragged features," Ulfric speculated, "She still looks as beautiful as ever."

Elisif took a deep breath and muttered a curse under a breath. She threw back her half-braided hair and looked at Ulfric. Ulfric pretended to read the book that was in his hands despite the fact that he hadn't read past page one.

"May I ask you a something?" Elisif questioned. Ulfric completely abandoned the boring book and set it next to his bed. "I don't see why not," Ulfric said.

Elisif leaned back in her bed and stared at the ceiling. "Why did you form the Stormcloaks? Why did you have to fight the Empire? Why didn't you just attack the Thalmor?"

Ulfric was doing the exact opposite as what Elisif was doing. He sat hunched over, staring at the floor. "It's not just about the Thalmor. The Empire is unfair and unjust in its rulings. It sends Skyrim's soldiers to battle for them while it only sends its own soldiers, not when the people of Tamriel wants or needs them, but only when it can benefit themselves. I could not stand to see the people of Skyrim bleed for an Empire that would not bleed for them!" Ulfric was right in his justification. He knew it. But he knew that this was only a minor reason. He knew that the **real** reason he had started this war was because of what the Thalmor did to his mother, "However, a large part of it **is** about the Thalmor." He exhaled loudly. Was it right to tell her his secret? Why he had vowed vengeance against the Thalmor? "When I was eleven years old, my mother was murdered… Right in front of my eyes. A bandit group was sent to invade the Palace of the Kings and kill my mother and father for allegedly conspiring against the Thalmor. My father was away at the time, but my mother was with me in the Jarl's quarters. The guards tried to fend them off…but there was too many. One of the bandits broke in and stabbed my mother in the heart while I hid under a bed and watched. It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen. When the dark elf bandit was sure she was dead, he fled. The entire bandit group was made up of Argonians, Khajjit, and Dunmer. It was only eight years later, when I hunted down the bandits, did I learn the Thalmor had sent them. The leader was the one who had tried to kill my mother and in a desperate plea for mercy he confessed that the Thalmor had sent them and why. I still killed him."

Ulfric looked up from the floor and into Elisif's eyes. What he saw was sheer pity. That loathing in her eyes that always seemed to be there whenever she looked at him was gone. "I am still seeking my vengeance. And I will only stop seeking it until every last member of the Thalmor is dead."

Elisif nodded in a silent gesture of respect and sank under the single blanket that was on her bed. Ulfric put his head on his pillows and tried to sleep; but he couldn't. He was too busy trying to suppress the feelings that were growing inside him. He tried to block and strangle them with his hatred and need for vengeance, but he couldn't. His love for the only other person in the room was too big to stop. Ulfric knew he would only get hurt by his feelings for her, but he couldn't deny them. He had fallen in love with Elisif.

He was unaware, though, that Elisif was quietly falling for him.


	5. An Emperor Someday- Tullius

Chapter Five- Tullius

An Emperor Someday

"What in all of Nirn am I supposed to do?" General Tullius whispered. He felt like all his hopes were being sucked away. He was staring at the map in vain, knowing that he could do almost nothing to stop the dragons. All Tullius could do was pray that Ulfric's plan would work.

Tullius could not command the small groups of soldiers at each of the settlements left within intervals of at least two hours. The dragons could burn down a town in half of that time.

Just when Tullius had made up his mind that Ulfric's plan may just work, a soldier came running in and stopped five yards away from him, panting. Under normal circumstances, Tullius would be annoyed. But by now he didn't care. It wasn't like he was doing anything at the moment anyways.

"Dragon Bridge, sir!" the soldier said when he thought he had enough air, "It has fallen. No survivors."

Tullius nodded. He had expected Ivarstead, but not that it mattered. A town fallen is a town fallen. "May Mara bless their souls," Tullius murmured. The soldier ran out of the war room.

Tullius suddenly realized how tired he was and looked at the candle that he had lit a while ago. It had almost completely turned to liquid wax. "I suppose I'll be as useful sleeping as I am awake," he mumbled.

* * *

General Tullius was dreaming. It wasn't a nightmare, but it wasn't real happy-go-lucky dream either. He was recounting his experiences from all those years ago, when he was living in Cyrodill.

In his dream, he was sitting down in a chair while waiting to go into the Emperor's quarters. He was eight years old at the time and had been told that the Emperor must see him immediately. Someone opened the door and beckoned him to come in.

When he walked in, he noticed that something was off. His mother was sitting next the Emperor, Titus Mede II, at a mahogany table. "Sit down dear," his mother whispered. Tullius did as he was told and sat opposite from the Emperor.

What was going on? Why had he been called to see the Emperor? Why was his mother here? "We have something very important we need to tell you," Titus said. "We feel as though we've kept it from you long enough." His mother then spoke up, "It's **very** important…but you must keep it **absolutely **secret. No exceptions. Do you understand?"

Tullius nodded. At first he thought he was very much in trouble for something he did…But now? He wasn't sure.

The Emperor looked straight into his eyes and said with a pained voice, "You are my son."

* * *

"When?" Tullius asked, his anger showing through.

"When you finish the assignment," Titus Mede answered. Tullius's anger was starting to boil over. He was almost fifty years old. Titus Mede II was over eighty.

"That was your answer five years ago. I've been in Elswyr, Valenwood, and Highrock since then, and I'm still not Emperor! You promised me that I would be your next heir. I'm your **only** heir. Your wife died eighteen years ago along with your other children. Are you waiting for another option?"

The Emperor shook his head, "No. I know I said that you would be Emperor long ago, but the Empire is stretched thin. We need people like you to go and settle the disputes."

Tullius was stunned. Was his father truly saying what he thought he was saying? Did he just mean to say that he had been removed from the line?

"What are you trying to say?" Tullius said.

Titus looked Tullius in the eyes again: like he always did when he was about to say something that Tullius didn't want to hear. "I'm saying that if you don't finish this assignment in Skyrim, I'm leaving the throne to one of my advisors. And even if you do finish it, you may not acquire the throne. The truth is, Tullius, that you're not ready and you never were."


End file.
